Letters to A Basterd
by TwitchGlitch
Summary: Donny stared at his bat then looked at the letters. He almost forgot his bat because he missed her, he didn't know what to do without her. This damn girl had invaded his mind just as the German's invaded Europe. DonnyXOC mainly. Little bit of Wicki-ness.
1. The Capture

_**"Self-sacrifice is the miracle out of which all the reported miracles grow" Ralph Waldo Emerson**_

******Letters To a Basterd**

**Chapter One: The Capture**

Sergeant Donald Donowitz held the dozens of letters in his large hands tears falling from his bloodshot eyes. His Anthia was gone and all he had left of her was the unopened letters in his hands. He wanted to open them to grasp at her words, just as he grasped at the idea she was still alive, but Donny Donowitz – the Bear Jew that terrified the German army – was scared to read them.

"Son, she wrote them and gave 'em to me for just this occasion. Now I'm not sayin' I want ya to read them all at once and ball yer eyes out, but I think one every now and then might help you out," said Lt. Aldo Raine. Donny looked at him wiping the tears from his eyes then the snot from his nose. Looking at the letter on the top of the pile he carefully opened it. Her handwriting was an elegant cursive, not the chicken scratch he used to see from his mother. Tear drop stains were all over the page.

_December 7th _

_Dearest Donny,_

_Well, if you are receiving these letters – for there will probably be more to come – something has happened to me. As implied by my beginning words, you have become more than a friend to me. However, I can only confess this in written words because I am afraid you may not feel the same and as they say 'Ignorance is bliss.' Its slight torture, honestly, not knowing how you feel towards me, however, I feel that this is for the best._

_Do you remember when we first met? I do, it was a dismal day for me. I was on my way to a Nazi camp, after having watched some German soldier's rape and kill my mother and sisters, when the Basterds ambushed the truck I was riding in. You were not the first to reach out to me. Actually, if my memory is correct you wanted nothing more than to kill me right then and there. Wicki was the one to say I might be of some use and convinced Aldo to let me accompany you. Every time you looked at me for the next several days, you glared at me, an evil glare that should have scared me, but it didn't. I welcomed the challenge._

_Then that day it happened. The Basterds were to ambush another Nazi truck it was supposed to have supplies that you were in desperate need of. Instead, it was carrying Nazi's the better half of two dozen, if memory serves. As you ambushed the truck several men jumped out and ran away, but they didn't run away did they? They circled around hoping to surprise you from behind. That was the day I proved slightly useful. When they stumbled into the camp, I was laying in the tent, with the riffle nose sticking out. Oblivious to the obvious, they walked right past me. I quietly opened the tent flap and shot the first one in the back. Then I shot the second before the third, fourth and fifth even realized what was happening. I shot the third man in the face and the fourth in the chest. That's when the sixth and seventh man pulled me from the tent. I smacked them. I scratched them. I tried to punch them a few times, but to no avail. I heard the awful crunching noise before my eyes knew what happened. As the seventh man fell next to me, his eyes devoid of life, the sixth pulled off me. It surprised me, I must admit, when I saw you were my savior. There was a look in your eyes, aside from the murderous one. Maybe I still imagine that look of distraught because of my realization that I do love care for love you. Maybe it was actually there. Perhaps someday I'll know, but as you are reading this, that outlook is dim._

Donny felt the other soldier's eyes on him as he read the letter. His tears had long ago stopped and a smile graced his lips every now and then as he remembered the exact moments she wrote of. She loved him. He had guessed as much, but always figured it was _his_ infatuation with her. She was right; of course, when he saw those German men on top of her his blood ran cold. One was beating her, while the other was unzipping his pants. Apparently, the Kraut thought he could get a quickie in before the Basterds got there. Maybe he thought the Basterds were never coming. Donny took the Kraut away from her and beat him to a pulp with his baseball bat. Normally he hit them in the head first, but Donny had broken every bone in the man's body before turning to his skull. It only took one powerful hit to the German's head to kill him.

"Donny," said Aldo after taking a few sniffs, "I know you wanna read your girls letters to ya, but if you want to see her alive again we need to get moving. We have a truck, why don't I drive and you can keep on readin'." Donny nodded and put the letters in his jacket before walking over to the German truck. He moved to the front passenger seat and yanked out a young German soldier who had been shot in the chest. The boy fell to the ground in an awful 'thump' but Donny ignored it. The bastard probably deserved it.

"Will you be okay?" Wicki asked walking up to Donny as he pulled out the letters again.

" 'Course I'll fucken be okay," Donny snapped. Wicki watched him for a minute then set Donny's baseball bat next to him.

"You might want to keep that then," Wicki said and walked to the back of the truck. Donny stared at his bat then looked at the letters. He almost forgot his bat because he missed her, he didn't know what to do without her. This damn girl had invaded his mind just as the German's invaded Europe. Looking back at the letter, Donny sighed and continued reading.

_After that day you were much more open to me, you were okay as I voiced my ideas, even saying that you should use more than one of them. I liked that. Today we ambushed another 'Kraut Patrol' as Smithson once told me all of you called the German soldiers. We found out about a German soldier who had killed thirteen SS officers. Aldo spoke with me on how we might convince him to join us. After a long discussion, I told him I would stay hidden, I know you are taken even more serious when I am not around so I figure it is the best way I can assist you. You will sneak into the prison he is transferred to for a night and I will take a riffle and sniper anyone who tries to leave through the back door whilst you enter through the front. The mission is tomorrow. I hope that there will be success._

_Yours forever, if only in words,_

_Anthia_

Donny could handle the letter. It was just revisiting things that were in the past; her words were what haunted him. _Yours forever, if only in words,_ they repeated themselves over and over again in his mind. He folded the letter and stuck it in his breast pocket with the others. He sniffed away the tears and gripped his baseball bat. Any German they met was going to be real sorry. They unleashed a monster and they thought he was bad before. An evil grin appeared on his face. He didn't care how many men he had to pass through; he would find her and take her to the home he never promised her.

* * *

_A/N:_

_Anthia is the only one I own. _

_This story is rated 'M' because lets face it, its a disgrace to the characters to make it anything less. That does not mean my character is going to cuss like a sailor, but I'm not going to take away the brutality and words the Basterds use._

_Short chapter, I know. The next one will be longer._

_I am writing this for fun, so while I will take into account any reviews I recieve, any disrespect to my story will earn a 'take it and shovel it' as Sandra Bullocks Character says in Demolition Man._

_Hope you enjoyed, I will be back with a new one in a while._


	2. The First Steps Towards One Another

_**"Self-sacrifice is the miracle out of which all the reported miracles grow" Ralph Waldo Emerson**_

******Letters To a Basterd**

**Chapter Two: First steps towards One Another**

It was the second day without her and Donny was still a mess, his stress only lowering slightly when he beat in three Kraut's heads. They were on the right path, or so claimed the German soldier. Other soldiers passed through the blockade only hours before.

"How is she?" Donny asked the Kraut, his baseball bat near the man's head.

"What?"

"I said, 'How is she?' Don't make me repeat myself again," Donny, said getting ready to swing.

"She was asleep," the German said quickly.

"Any bruises or cuts?"

"Defensive," the German said slowly, "she was bleeding… profusely… from a wound on her head."

"Wrong answer mother fucker," said Donny swinging as hard as he could. The man's neck broke and blood spattered across Donny and the ground. He dropped his bat still unsatisfied after killing.

"Donny, why don't you go sit and relax somewhere," Aldo said looking at his normally trustworthy soldier. He had always seen the anger and hate when Donny swung his bat, but this new hatred was scary even for the Nazi killers.

Donny walked into the abandoned building they would be sleeping in for the night. There was not heat and there was not any electricity, but it was shelter and it would protect them from the freezing rain. Donny sat on a chair in a room on the first floor and opened the second letter.

_My Dearest Donny,_

_Hugo Stieglitz has joined our group of killers. You don't like him, I can tell. He sits next to me and finds me interesting. No, you don't like that at all. He is beneficial to our group, I must admit, and while he gives me uneasy feelings, for now, we must trust him. His animalistic side cries out for my body. Call me paranoid – perhaps I am – but I can feel his presence when he is near. He does not like you either; I think he finds you as a threat. The one man who could easily take his prize from him. Chills run down my spine as I think of it. I must reiterate, not once did you scare me, but Hugo… I am terrified of him. I don't want to be near him when we are alone. I believe Aldo senses my uneasiness and he has tried to confront me several times. Hugo is always there though and I will not speak with Aldo if Hugo is around. I am terrified._

Donny's anger flared as he read the start of the letter. She was right, he and Hugo did not get along and she knew the exact reason why. What she didn't know was the reason behind the fight they had over her. Donny remembered the December day as if it was just the day before. She was sleeping in the same tent as Donny, Hugo and Wicki. Donny saw her shivering in the night so he woke her gently and asked her if she wanted to slip into his sleeping bag. Freezing she nodded and laid next to him. Her much smaller body was terribly cold and Donny wrapped his arms around her, giving her some of his heat. When Hugo awoke to start his guard shift, he saw her sleeping peacefully on top of the very much awake Donny Donowitz. Stieglitz sent a glare that was all too clear to Donny and left the tent. Donny woke her up slightly.

"What is it Donny?" she asked plagued with sleep.

"I just need to go to the bathroom," he whispered to her, "You can go back to sleep." She nodded and as soon as he was out of the sleeping bag, she was fast asleep again.

"Donny," whispered Wilhelm, "He's not worth it."

"That fucken Kraut needs to learn his place around here," Donny said pulling on his pants and wrapping his belt around his fist. Donny stepped out from the tent, his wife beater showing his toned muscles. The hairs on his body rose at the cold, but Donny ignored it, he was on a personal mission.

"Hugo Stieglitz," he said walking over to the far side of the camp, "get your ass out here." Hugo appeared from behind a tree near Donny and dropped his gun to his feet.

"You'll quit starin' at my girl like she's a piece of meat you want," Donny demanded through clenched teeth.

"She is far from 'your girl' Donowitz," Hugo said unmoving.

"How do ya know that?" Donny asked with a wild smirk, "you ain't been here long enough to know anything."

"I asked her," he said a smirk appearing on his face, "she said there was nothing going on between the two of you. Merely friends." Donny couldn't remember much of what happened after that, but next thing he knew, He and Hugo were wrestling on the ground, beating the pulp out of each other. All the Basterds were watching with enthusiasm, except one. A shot fired at the ground near them and they looked to the source.

"Save your strength for the ones we're supposed to be fighting," Anthia said scolding the two as if they were children. Donny – who for all practical purposes had been winning the fight – slammed Hugo's head into the frozen ground then stood up. He walked over to her and placed a frozen bloodied hand on her chin. Donny stopped his thoughts there and continued reading.

_This morning was odd though my dear and I must admit I was at a loss. I woke up to all of the Basterds whooping and hollering about a fight. I didn't expect it to be you and Hugo. I'm not sure what you were fighting over, but I was glad you were winning. However, as happy as I was seeing you put him in his place, I knew the cold December morning was not a good time for it. I suppose I could have shot in the air, but I know you Donny, and when you focus on one thing, not much else gets your attention. I shot the ground and scolded you. The both of you looked like kicked puppies. Next thing I knew you were standing in front of me a cold hand on my chin forcing me to look you in the eyes. Not that I ever minded, your chocolate eyes are the closest I get to having real chocolate, and there is a certain twinkle to them, when you have something on your mind…_

_That twinkle was in your eyes and you kissed me. Not rough, as I had expected it might be if it ever happened, but gentle and cautious. Oh, how I wanted to kiss you back, but not in front of the Basterds. I smiled into your lips and backed away walking into the tent. The loud, "What the Fuck was that?" from Aldo brought a smirk to my face._

_The rest of today went by uneventful. Aldo let us stay where we were for the day, giving us a bit of a day off. Mostly we stayed in our tents, but as night began to fall after dinner was long gone, it began to snow. So here I sit, writing these letters to you in the snow. For every snowflake that touches this page, I hope you come out of the tent, find me, and kiss me again. Nevertheless, I know that will not happen. God how I wish your lips were upon mine right now. Maybe tonight will be just as cold as last night, and I will be 'forced' to sleep with you again. Last night for the first time in a long time, I was truly warm while I slept, and I felt safer than I ever have._

_What is it about you Donny that makes me feel so protected?_

_I love you Donny. I wish you knew._

_Forever Yours,_

_Anthia_

Donny gripped the paper looking out of the window of the derelict building they were sleeping in. It was snowing outside and Donny couldn't help but think of her. She loved the snow, even if it did make her sick. She used to separate herself from the Basterds as it snowed staying in their sight in case anything happened. She danced in the snow, the first time she saw it and all of the men watched her. When she was asked about it, she told them she had moved around from country to county when she was little and had never seen snow before. It was a gift from the Gods to her.

She was a gift from the Gods to Donny; he was convinced as he imagined her dancing in the snow once more. Donny looked away from the window assuming his eyes were playing tricks on him, but they weren't she was outside dancing in the snow. He jumped over beds as he made his way outside, waking up all of the Basterds in the process. He pulled the girl into a hug telling her he missed her, but then he noticed something. She wasn't usually that short. Letting the girl go he saw a young dirty Jewish girl looking back at him, speaking in German.

"Sorry," he muttered in English and walked away. Aldo was standing at the door watching Donny. The boy was a mess without Anthia. Aldo knew Donny fell for her, but he didn't know how hard he fell. Aldo followed Donny as he walked into the forest and threw some stones. It wasn't until Donny quit throwing everything that he could; screamed in agony; and began sobbing, that Aldo intervened.

"Donny, son," Aldo began and Donny turned to him.

"What do you want?" he asked, "Can't I be miserable alone."

"Now you know, I can't let you do that," Aldo said sitting next to his soldier. He pulled a tri-folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Donny. Donny looked at it.

"What is that?" he asked without opening it.

"It's a letter she sent to us. Thought you might want to read it. Wicki found it on the German you killed with one hit." Donny opened it and began reading.

_Aldo, things are not good. They are taking me to the 'House of Satan' one soldier told me, to the Jew Hunter, Hans Landa. I am terrified, but I have faith that he will keep me alive. I hope that no one is terribly upset, and I hope Donny is reading those letters I gave you. Every word in them is true._

_The Germans are planning a premier night. Rumor has it that they are thinking of changing it from the Ritz as originally planned, to a smaller location. I wish to write you more but words are slipping from my mind as I fall into an unconscious state._

_Tell everyone I am fine, just weak… I will be okay. Do not worry about me; focus on your mission first and foremost. The Brits will be in touch; one tried to help me away from here, but was shot down as we tried to run. Death is following me closely, but treads in deep water and cannot catch me yet for I am a much better swimmer than he is._

_Be safe._

_Be cautious._

_Never let your guard down._

_If he can, he will use me to stop you from what you are doing, but you must stop him no matter what._

_I miss all of you…_

* * *

_A/N:_

_Anthia is the only one I own. _

_This story is rated 'M' because lets face it, its a disgrace to the characters to make it anything less. That does not mean my character is going to cuss like a sailor, but I'm not going to take away the brutality and words the Basterds use._

_I am writing this for fun, so while I will take into account any reviews I recieve, any disrespect to my story will earn a 'take it and shovel it' as Sandra Bullocks Character says in Demolition Man._

_Hope you enjoyed, I will be back with a new one in a while._

_Anthia's looks will be explained in the next chapter... I'm doing this purposely._


	3. A History Lesson

**"Self-sacrifice is the miracle out of which all the reported miracles grow" Ralph Waldo Emerson**

**Letters of Honesty**

**Chapter Three: A History Lesson**

Donny attacked the dead Nazi soldiers scalp with vigor the Basterds were slowly becoming used to seeing again. Before Anthia came along Donny was a ruthless killer and when she joined the group the Bear Jew calmed, even though she approved of what he did. Donny had claimed her, but the words were unspoken. The Basterds all knew it; they saw the looks in his eyes as he watched Anthia. Wicki saw how Donny would take in Anthia's dark blonde hair. Aldo witnessed how he would stare at her face taking in her blue eyes and when she would look at Donny, the boy would glance away.

"I ain't ever gonna love a German broad," he would boast, but the Basterds knew it was more to convince himself than anyone else. Truth was, Donny had fallen hard for the German woman, but she was hardly German. Donny had just recently found out her history in fact and suddenly it made sense why she was uncomfortable in her German ramblings.

_Darling Donny,_

_Not much has happened today, but I felt like writing to you. I pondered for some time, over what to write, and then I decided I want you to know me. You know my name of course, but you have no idea who I was before the war. I was an educated woman living in Saint Louis, Missouri. I wrote for the St. Louis Post Dispatch and was the most prestigious writer. No man could surpass me in my ability to tell stories of hardships and tribulations. I wrote stories on drug dealers and moonshiners, caught and being put on trial. People always want a story that's tougher than their own; it makes them feel good about their life. After all it could be much worse._

_I once wrote of a murder case, speaking with the murderer, the police and victimized families. I sent a copy of the article to each of the aforementioned parties. The murderer wrote to me the day before he was to be electrocuted to death and told me it was the finest piece of news he ever read. He promised to continue reading my work. The next morning, as they entered his cell they found it empty._

_A few months later I received a photograph from North Africa. Scribbled on the back was 'Bonjour from Silex (Silex was his name, or so he reported). Visit when you can darling.' I followed the paper trail immediately to Tripoli in Libya. From there I followed West through Algeria and into Morocco. I found him in Casablanca, disguised as a wealthy American. He showed me to his home (you must be thinking stupid girl, but I had faith in my strength and wit) and in which I learned many things. My murderer, Silex, was indeed a wealthy American. He was an assassin in the First World War. Silex killed the woman, because she was about to kill many people. Suddenly small insignificant confusing details made perfect sense._

_I was planning on leaving Casablanca by the end of that month, but I stayed for three years. That was when I learned to shoot. I was an assassins apprentice at the age of twenty five. When Hitler began his rise into power, my journalist instincts led me to Berlin._

_Information takes time to travel; little did I know information took so much longer to travel from Berlin to Casablanca than Europe to America. By the time I arrived in Berlin, Hitler was already taking over other countries. His war against the Jews had begun and being the blue-eyed blonde that I am, no one questioned my reason in Germany. I soon found a journalism company that needed someone to work for them so I applied and got the job the same day…_

_It is time to move out I promise you more of my story soon._

It wasn't signed, so Donny assumed she had been rushing. He found her history in stark contrast to his. He was mostly uneducated, only barely passing through the public education he received. He never left Boston, _never_, and worked at his father's barber shop, preparing to take it over one day. His mother wished for him to marry a Jewish girl, Adah, she was his neighbor and had been a good friend of his for years; Donny had never felt for Adah as he felt for Anthia.

The Basterds were staying in a bombed building. Mostly the building was stable, but occasionally the walls would move and sigh as the wind pushed against them and the floors would groan from the unusual strain of weight. It was an eerie building and they were unusually close to the front lines, but they were following Anthia's trail. Turns out even Aldo the Apache liked the girl.

"Keep's you calm boy," Aldo said to Donny, "that and she's a good kid. Smart, I need her for the team. And I guess she's kinda like you Donny. She's family now. I can't just let family go."

Donny picked up another letter and began to read it; he skimmed the letter after seeing it wasn't the continuation. She wrote six letters in between the time she started her story then continued it. Donny read them not nearly as interested in them as he would have been the day before. He looked at the dilapidated clock sitting on the mantle of the room he was in and looked at the next letter. It was two; one more of her letters could hurt could it? They were always short…

_Dearest Donny,_

_I've just remembered I never finished my story. Papa would have been ashamed of me. He always supported me and my stories, telling me I was brilliant with words. I always strive to achieve his approval, even though he and Mama are together again in God's world of eternal resting; resting sounds so wonderful right now, but for now here is where my story really begins._

_Hitler and his men raided the building I was working for one day while I was there working. My hirer was Jewish and so therefore an enemy of the state. I was almost taken into custody, but a German Private took interest in me and asked what I was doing in a 'Rat's Place of Business.' I told him that I was from America and unable to leave so the man offered me a job. The Private smiled to me and offered a hand which (you might think me mad to do) I took. I knew it meant a longer survival and aside from that, it was in a contract I signed. My Hirer did not want me to be damned to death because I needed a job. It was his request more than mine._

_Private Third Class Fredrick Zoller was his name. He is a sniper for the German Army and if he were on our side I might have actually fallen for him. He was suave and kind; helping me to learn better German which I basked in. Before his infamous battle where he killed so many of our men, he was given time off and took me to Austria. You must live long enough to go there. The mountains are beautiful with snow covered caps that turn into grassy landscape full of edelweiss and pines. The air is so pure that when the wind blows you feel as though God is giving you his breath. The land was rejuvenating. The water was clean always the same deep blue and always cool. That was where Zoller and I spent all of our time when not at German parties._

_We would spend our days lying in the mossy grass by the beach, basking in the sun and occasionally running into the water to cool off again. Fredrick told me stories while we laid in the grass always respectful that I was an American. He wanted me to see the Jews the way he saw them, but never forced it upon me. He said I would discover the truth on my own. Likewise, I told him the truth always has two sides. His stories, at first, were of Nazism and how it was noble, but quickly changed into my liking of Princesses and Fairytales. You can laugh; Dearest Donny, but they are what I love most in this world. In fairytales the truth is always discovered in the end and people become friends even sometimes lovers, no matter how opposite they may be._

_The time in Austria passed quicker than I expected, three months only seemed like a few days, and Fredrick gave me the option I will never regret my answer to. He asked if I wished to journey with him. While Austria was beautiful, I knew partly my enjoyment was of the company. Fredrick, no matter how much you may want to kill him now, always took care of me and respected me, something very few other Germans did._

_We traveled by train mostly across Europe to France. It took us nearly a month and only got off the train to take a truck to another train or to our final destination together. When we parted he kissed my head farewell and I cried wishing he would survive, but knowing if he did then he would either be captured by us or somehow escape, but the worst part would be all the people he killed._

_When I said I would never regret my decision of going with him, it was the truth, because Fredrick Zoller led me to you. If not for him I may have died long before we ever met, but he was like a guardian angel leading me to my true home; an angel with a sniper rifle. What a funny visual. It was a few weeks, I had been transferred back to Paris and was told that if I left unattended to take a gun with me and be cautious. Golems were in the forests and attacked the German men at night. I only went out during the day so I thought I would be safe._

_One night I went to the nearest bar with a few of the German officers who I had befriended. Fredrick was to come see me the next day as a newly decorated Private First Class and a war hero. I was retiring to my home solitarily when I heard someone following me. My hearing is acute to hard listening because as a reporter the best story doesn't come from the man sitting in front of you but the next table over. I suddenly felt the cold metal rubbing on my thigh, irritating the skin more than ever. I was wearing a dress that Fredrick actually bought me, a long simple red dress that showed a lot of back and a lot of leg (seeing as the slit traveled nearly to my hip). I turned back to find a Jewish man following me. He was not drunk, I noticed as I looked over his features. In fact in he looked quite the opposite with his bones nearly showing and his sunken features. I stared at him for a while longer unmoving until I realized he was familiar to me. Then it hit me._

"_Joel," I remember whispering._

"_Thia," he whispered back and we embraced in a hug. You see, Donny, Joel was my brother. He, my two older sisters and my mother stayed in Germany. My dad and I left for America when I was young, my mother having already left her beautiful country for Greece once for my father refused to move again and stayed. Joel and my sisters Neoma and Alcie were all older than I (Alcie the youngest of the three was 6 years my major) and preferred to stay in Germany with their friends. I wanted to go to America anyway so I was happy when my Papa told me I was going. I never argued with Papa._

"_Joel, how has this happened?"_

"_They are after us Thia. Papa was a German Jew and they knew that. They've been hunting for us for years. I saw you walk with those German officers by where we were hiding and I couldn't believe it was you. Thia, you've grown so much." We spoke for a long time after that and I led him to the place where I was staying. He left for a short while to get my two sisters and mother. When they arrived I fed them and we talked and hugged and cried and kissed. We acted as though we would never see each other again. I guess somehow we knew._

Donny set the letter down and turned off his light. He didn't want to read anymore that night. Glancing about the dark room he lay down and began to think of her Austria. She had loved the place and told him to visit. Maybe when all things were said and done, he would take her there. She loved fairytales. Maybe they could find a home in Austria and that could be Anthia's fairytale ending.

God he hated what she did to him. How she made him want to be all sappy and romantic. No woman ever made him want to be like that before and they had tried. Maybe he wanted to be with her for that reason, because she had never tried. She had never tried to force him to be someone than he was. A barber. A barber who killed Nazis with a baseball bat.

Yet all at the same time, he loved her and everything she did to him. He was hers.

**_Author's note: _**

**__**_This story is just one of those randomly do in my free time kind of stories. I try to get a chapter out whenever I can, but this isn't a big deal to me, therefore the time between chapters will vary._

_I hope you enjoyed :)_


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